


Corruption

by livinginadaydream (orphan_account)



Category: Jonas Brothers
Genre: Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-26
Updated: 2010-06-26
Packaged: 2017-11-02 04:11:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/364840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/livinginadaydream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fighting for control.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Corruption

The clouds hung so thick, the scent of rain present, and everything felt electrically charged like a storm was coming through. Nick, though, he didn't need to worry about that stuff. He was too old, too tough, too smart, to be over-thrown by anything. Fear had no place with him. Self-taught, he could block out any worry within fifteen seconds of it entering his brain. He was a lot more easy-going than anyone would ever give him credit for. And Nick knew why.   
  
It was because no one could stand the thought of him being self-sufficient, secure in his notions, because then they would be out of a job. God probably gave him Diabetes as a trial, and probably let him come out about it without a hitch, just to put him in his place. Good lord, did he ever regret it, too. But it made everyone else happy, because they could worry about him, feel important, like they meant something special when they asked him how his levels were doing, or if he wanted a bottle of juice.   
  
Nobody wanted to realize that yeah, Nick wanted to be really accurate in everything he did, but if he messed up sometimes, that his world didn't end. He laughed about it, most of the time, for God's sake. But people treated it like it was some sort of mask, like he was doing it to cover up how hurt-butt he was over it. And it was really fucking annoying when they'd give him those pitying eyes, so then he'd get pissed, and they'd think they'd done their job, tearing the mask off or something, so that Nick could really deal with his problems instead of hiding from them. Cause, man, they were just so important to his life. How would Nick survive without them?   
  
So out of spite, out of recklessness, because he was just so fucking tired of everything, out of a moment of desperation, he cracked himself wide open. If you can't beat them, join them. That's what he kept repeating to himself as he dry-swallowed a couple of pills down, guaranteed to jack him up - and completely make him crash. "Corruption is mine," he had said to himself before stepping out onto the stage that night. Maybe everyone else could fix him. But he was the only one who could break him.   
  
Nick never considered himself to be the addictive sort. His body thought differently. The funny thing was - the best part - when all he wanted to do anymore, was to be broken, and let all those jerks who thought the could fix his Humpty Dumpty ass get what they wanted from him, they slowly began fading out into the crowd. They all stopped trying, stopped wanting to fix him, stopped caring about his cause, and turned their mis-guided notions to some other, easier case.   
  
He was left scrounging for a high, a low, anything to make him feel abnormal, because normality felt like he was in a slow-burning Hell. The people he came to like the most, were the ones who wrote about him in the press, the ones who said he was a sell-out, a disgrace, a ridiculous waste of potential and talent. Those words became his compliments, the only thing that kept him alive. He needed those voices talking to him, telling him that he was worthless. As long as he felt broken, he felt like he was giving people something to do, and that was his purpose in life, he had learned. So maybe no one really cared anymore. But once it had meant that, and it was stuck in his brain, a belief, for an addictive mind, in a body addicted to harm.   
  
Corruption was his.


End file.
